


Barbeque

by DwarvenBeardSpores



Series: 250 word stories about sasha having friends [5]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: A Wilde Week 2020 (Rusty Quill Gaming), Cooking, Episode 111: Waterworks, Episode Related, Feeding, Food, Friendship, Gen, Knives, Wilde does some self-depreciation, hunger, puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:55:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DwarvenBeardSpores/pseuds/DwarvenBeardSpores
Summary: Sasha is cooking with knives, crouched over hot glass.Written for Wilde Week Day 3 -  Feast | Hunger | Treats
Relationships: Sasha Racket & Oscar Wilde
Series: 250 word stories about sasha having friends [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980898
Comments: 16
Kudos: 53
Collections: A Wilde Week 2020





	Barbeque

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Wilde Week, day 3 - "One should always eat muffins quite calmly. It is the only way to eat them.” Feast | Hunger | Treats.
> 
> It is EXTREMELY on brand for me to not have the verve to participate for the whole week, but to at least appear suddenly for snacc day (the best day).
> 
> Fun fact, I do want to write a longer fic about the barbeque scene, probably Azu-centric, with many complicated themes and stuff, but you know what? I can (aptly) two-cakes myself, and I HAVE.
> 
> Thank you to Holo for the hot hot geology knowledge!

Sasha is cooking with knives, crouched over hot glass. The surprising part is not that she _can_ but that she _would._ It bothers Wilde that he never would have imagined her dark shape flipping rations with daggers, in full view of him and Azu.

She's got eggs, now. Cracking them over the quenched ground. There weren't eggs a minute ago. Who brings _eggs_ to infiltrate a _factory?_

Sasha, apparently.

He really knows absolutely nothing.

"Oi." Sasha hands him and Azu each some bread with hot, chopped, dried meat and a fried egg on top. It has no business smelling as good as it does. ' _Glassed factory'_ hardly counts as seasoning.

"Thank you, Sasha." He's polite, he's _fine._ He has not been cooked for in a long time. 

Her lips twitch, sharp. Almost a pleased smile, if he didn't know better.

His stomach aches desperately. 

_Singular talent_ he'd called her. Shame she knows. Though he's not sure that quite applies _here_.

"Yeah," Sasha says. "Uh. Pleased for it to _meat_ you."

Wilde blinks.

"Y'know," Sasha points with her dagger. "Meat."

Wilde's lips smirk very much without permission. "Of course. I can't seem too eager, though. Don't want to egg it on."

Sasha barks a sharp laugh. "Aw, yeah. Good one."

It's not. He doesn't argue. Azu and Sasha settle nearby, enjoying themselves.

Wilde tucks in. The meat is coarse, the egg weirdly crispy. It's filling.

When Sasha offers seconds, he accepts.

It has no business tasting as good as it does.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you thought. 
> 
> I can also be found on tumblr as dwarven-beard-spores and twitter as @beardspores.


End file.
